Savage Divinity

Though a hard-fought battle had only just taken place around Fort Sinuji, the familiar clamour of marching boots and bellowing Officers set Song’s mind at ease, for she was once again within her element. A bouquet of blood, bile, and burnt flesh filled the air with a foul, metallic tang which set Luo-Luo and her handmaidens to gagging, but Lin-Lin paid no mind to the unpleasant stench as she ran off with the Healers to aid the beleaguered medical Army staff. The Bekhai aid would be most welcome, because wherever Song turned, she saw dented helmets, notched breastplates, and bandaged faces a plenty, and those were the lucky individuals who made it through today’s battle relatively unscathed. At the very least, they were still healthy and fit enough to move about, unlike the injured souls they ferried over to the hospital tents by stretcher or the unfortunate corpses piled upon the burgeoning funeral pyres.

A heavy toll to pay, but such was life, a struggle from beginning to end. ‘Clear Temple’, the first poem in the Classics of Poetry, alluded to such a fate which awaited them all.

Solemn is the Clear Temple

Reverent are its illustrious adherents

Dignified are the gathered officers

Adhering to the virtues of Nobility

Praising our Mother in Heaven

They Hurry swiftly into the temple

Greatly illustrious, greatly dignified

She safeguards Her children forevermore

Reverence, dignity, and nobility mattered not, because in the end, all humans would share the same fate. The solemn Clear Temple was death, and only in death would humanity know true safety and dignity, resting in the arms of the Mother above, or at least that’s how Song interpreted the poem. Whether one was a dignified Officer or reverent adherent, the Mother loved them all the same, regardless of status or ability. A message obviously lost to most, but a touching one, considering it’d been written by a former Magistrate whilst laying on his deathbed.

But even death is only a brief respite from the endless trials and tribulations of life...

Or perhaps Song was completely wrong. Perhaps there was a Clear Temple somewhere in the Empire, and the poem was simply describing the Magistrate’s visit. Poetry was more difficult to interpret than music or painting, though she found dance the most incomprehensible of all...

Knowing the half-hare was well protected, Song left Luo-Luo with the pets and followed Niece Alsantset to help the exhausted soldiers with their labour, guiding Erdene around with a borrowed cart to carry away the fallen. Stuck at Rain’s side for the duration of the battle, she was fresh and well-rested despite the long days of travel, and she worked in silence alongside the other Khishigs on the walls, where their kind intentions were welcomed with mixed reactions from the battered soldiers of Sinuji. Some were genuinely grateful, but most seemed suspicious or even downright resentful of the Bekhai presence, despite the fact that the fort might well have fallen without Niece Alsantset’s four-thousand plus cavalry force to aid them.

The soldiers resentment was not without reason since Rain’s arrival in Sinuji heralded disasters to come. The last time he was here, a massive Defiled force gathered to lay siege to the fort, the largest Enemy force to take the field since the Western Province fell, and it was obvious they’d come for Rain. Now, not only were these soldiers worried about Emissary Gen returning at the head of an even larger army to finish the job, there were also rumours of a feud between Rain and an Imperial Scion, which meant the soldiers of Sinuji might soon become collateral damage in games of Imperial politics.

The lives of the many outweigh the needs of a few. Broken as he was, Falling Rain was being selfish by clinging to life now that matters had come so far...

No, the fault lay with Yang Jixing and the Legate. Rain was merely a victim and his death would solve nothing. Burying her errant thoughts, Song focused on the task at hand, piling corpses onto Erdene’s creaking cart until it was full before bringing them away to the blazing pyres. The dead lay thick on the walls and she was soon caked in gore from her diligent efforts, but atrocious as the horrors of war might be, she hardly batted an eye while digging through piles of the dead to separate Imperial heroes from Defiled savages. They looked so similar in death, she soon began to wonder why it even mattered.

Who cared if they burned on an Imperial pyre or a Defiled one? Why even burn them at all? They were dead, their souls destined for the Clear Temple, so what did they care about their mortal remains?

There was no honour or glory to be found here, but this came as no surprise. Battle was her aspiration, the Peak of the Martial Path her lofty ambition, and death part and parcel of it all, including the unsavoury and unsettling aspects the bards and playwrights never cared to delve into. Still, it was strange how the mind worked, always wanting what it could not have. When Rain took injury in Sinuji little over three months ago, Song worried it would be years before she returned to the battlefield once more, but while she was grateful to be here, there was little joy or excitement in her heart. This conflict was a righteous one, yet another chapter in the unending war between the Father’s foul minions and the Mother’s children, and though she counted herself honoured to wield her blade in the Mother’s Holy name, she found she no longer ached for the thrill of battle. Though she spent the last several months yearning to revisit the front lines, now that she was here and experiencing it all again firsthand, she found she missed the peaceful, serene view from her fifth-story window, looking out over the green and white sea of frost-dusted grass while the rising sun cast an orange glow over the skies above.

How nice it would have been to fall asleep on the ledge, and perhaps never wake again...

But then Mama, Papa, and Sister would be saddened by her passing. Song would be sad too, if she learned of her death after the fact, for she still had so much to live for...

Usually, Song ignored her desires and emotions because she only had to obey her orders, but ever since Rain speculated her difficulties with Aura might stem from her constant suppression of emotions, she paid more attention to her state of mind, hence her earlier uncharacteristic attempt at poetic interpretation. Rain’s advice had been simple, to smile when she was happy and frown when she was sad, but Song found it difficult to embrace her emotions after a lifetime spent guarding against them. Even as she stood covered in the blood of fallen Imperial and Defiled, she was neither mournful nor enraged, bitter nor impassioned. Death no longer held the same allure it once did, but in Song’s eyes, these peaceful souls now lay resting in the arms of the Mother, no longer troubled by the red dust of the mortal world, which wasn’t the worst fate imaginable.

Repressing a sigh, Song pursed her lips at the too familiar phrase, one heard often whenever the Abbot deigned to let others hear him preach. She was ambivalent to the aged ascetic’s presence and cared not for his lectures, but she found the steady droning of his deep, booming chants oddly reassuring, which might account for her emotional uncertainty, not to mention the many hours of the Abbot’s sermons she had lurking in the back of her mind. If life was suffering, and Song suffered because of her desires, then was this not contrary to Rain’s advice telling her to embrace her desires and emotions? What’s more, if life was suffering, then what meaning was there in the struggle for survival? The Abbot’s dismissive attitude towards the war efforts was plain to see, more concerned with matters of the eternal soul rather than insignificant and impermanent concerns of life and death, yet here he stood offering comfort and solace to the living while giving funeral rites to the dead. Absurd as the concept seemed, if one believed in reincarnation as Song and most of the Empire did, then the Abbot’s viewpoint made perfect sense. What was one life measured against a potential infinite lifetimes?

“Eh-Mi-Tuo-Fuo.” Though startled by monk Happy’s sudden appearance, Song let none of her surprise show as she turned away from her work to stare at the chubby-cheeked ascetic. His grey robes untouched by dust or blood, monk Happy’s peaceful smile seemed out of place amidst the death and carnage as he bowed his head in prayer and said, “Khishig Song, this monk senses much conflict within you. Speak your mind and unburden your worries so that this one may listen and offer his humble advice.” Straightening up, his smile widened until his eyes disappeared into his rosy cheeks while he gestured around them, adding, “Speak freely with confidence, for this monk guarantees that unless Khishig Song desires it, then no third person shall ever know what is said here today, or if she would prefer, we could speak in a more private setting.”

Only then did Song realize the monk had already erected a Sound Barrier around them, blocking out the din of labouring soldiers and the Abbot’s droning chant. Further study revealed they’d also been Concealed, as humans and beasts all moved unerringly around Song and Happy without ever noticing their presence, a handy trick she desperately desired to master, if only to reduce the stress of public events and remain hidden until called upon. The only exceptions were Tenjin and Tursinai who looked straight at her, both wearing comforting smiles while non-verbally conveying their support and encouragement.

Why? Song didn’t think she looked particularly troubled, but perhaps they noticed something she didn’t.

Neither accepting nor rejecting monk Happy’s offer, Song deliberated whether or not she wanted to share her troubles with a complete stranger. Though she had yet to learn the measure of the Abbot and monk Happy, she was impressed by their fallen brother who exchanged blows with an Ancestral Beast, and wondered how these two would fare in comparison. Still, despite respecting their strength and knowing that their teachings were directly responsible for her current misgivings, she didn’t feel comfortable opening up to monk Happy, and especially not while standing ankle deep in blood and gore.

So instead, she asked, “May I meet Kukku?”

Even Rain had yet to meet the reticent rooster, as Kukku knew how to Conceal and monk Happy kept the bird’s morning crows from rousing everyone within ten kilometres. To hear Jorani tell it, the rooster looked no different from regular silky chickens, only larger in every way, so Song yearned to stroke his feathers and hug him close. It seemed like forever ago when she sat idle in SuiHua and dreamed of having a pet chicken to call her own, but this seemed as close as she would ever get, so she hoped monk Happy would agree to her request.

Alas, the rotund monk shook his head and bowed in apology. “Apologies, Khishig Song, but this monk is merely Kukku’s attendant, and not his master. He chooses whom he reveals himself to, but he is unused to travelling abroad and all this blood and death has sent him deep into hiding. This monk fears he will not emerge until we return to the monastery, but perhaps he will reveal himself to you in time.”

With that said, he bowed and told her he was available to talk at any time if she should ever feel the need before fading away from perception. The world came to life once again with wheels turning and boots marching to the steady cadence of the Abbot’s wooden-fish drum and his soothing chants, so she let the sounds drown out her thoughts as she returned to her grisly, but necessary work.

Worthless, wasteful work. Unnatural business, burning bodies. Better to leave them for the scavengers to serve purpose in death.

...Drown out most of her thoughts, save for the most nonsensical ones. Bodies needed to be burned so Defiled and Demons would not eat them, a simple fact even children understood.

It was almost dark when Niece Alsantset called Song away, and while her task was not yet finished, there were fresh soldiers coming in to relieve their weary comrades, so she knew no fallen heroes would be left behind to fill Defiled or Demon bellies. Even then, she hesitated to leave, though she didn’t know why until she arrived at their campgrounds, a prime location which sat inside the fort walls and just west of the commander’s tent, no doubt so Lieutenant Colonel Watanabe could keep a close eye on Rain. Seeing him silently arguing with Colonel General Nian Zu, Song realized she didn’t want to see him, though she could not say why, but she trusted her instincts and shuffled off without a word.

Instead, she lined up at the partitioned washing area where the female Khishigs waited their turn while the male Khishigs stripped down and washed in plain sight. The women would have done the same if not for Mama’s specific orders to contrary, given long before they even left the Northern Province. Still unused to the Bekhai’s shameless attitude towards nudity, Song averted her eyes and waited for the better part of an hour before her turn arrived, after which she scrubbed herself clean with cold water alongside Tursinai, Maral, and young Tomor from Rain’s retinue. Despite removing every speck of congealed viscera from her person and even using a knife to scrape her fingernails clean, she still felt soiled by the day’s events, her heart heavy and mind jumbled without the Abbot’s chanting to bolster her spirits. Struggling to come to terms with her mysterious melancholy, she reluctantly made her way to Rain’s paltry soldier’s tent, where he sat eating dinner with Lin-Lin, Luo-Luo, and Niece Alsantset while the pets romped and ate around them. “Hey Song,” Rain said, greeting her with a tired smile and waving his uneaten hardtack about. “This is one thing I definitely don’t miss about the front lines. Don’t think I can even chew this without breaking my teeth. What I wouldn’t do for a warm bowl of tofu pudding...”

Finding his cavalier attitude more irksome than usual, she nodded and sat as far away from him as possible, while still being a part of the group. A part of her wanted to leave, but if she went back to her yurt now, none of the pets would want to come with and she would be stuck sleeping alone for the night. Though lacking an appetite, she knew she’d need all the strength she could muster in days to come, so she chewed mechanically and ate her dinner without tasting while listening to Rain recount his meeting with Lieutenant Colonel Watanabe followed by his argument with Colonel General Nian Zu. His first day back on the front lines and already he considered having his commanding officer assassinated, only Rain could be so foolish. Chances were, the Yang Clan or the Disciplinary Corps had hidden Experts watching Lieutenant Colonel Watanabe around the clock, just waiting for Rain to make such an obvious blunder, but at least the Colonel General had convinced him otherwise.

Unfortunately, with Rain’s Death Corps Honour Guard taken out of the equation, the future looked bleak indeed. Without good reason, Colonel General Nian Zu wouldn’t countermand Lieutenant Colonel Watanabe’s orders, not without falling victim to the very same trap Teacher Du almost stepped into. As Brother Baatar’s direct superior, Colonel General Nian Zu was only here to supervise Rain, so if he took over command of Sinuji indefinitely, then the Disciplinary Corps would certainly step in to protest, which was why the Great Hero returned command to the great buffoon once the danger had passed. What’s more, high ranking officers had been kept away from the front lines for good reason, because the current status quo benefited the Empire more than the Defiled. At the moment, only smaller tribes and scattered bands of loose savages dared to come east, as the more powerful and prominent Defiled Chieftains were busy carving up the West and indulging in their macabre delights, giving the Empire much-needed time to build up their defences. If too many powerful Peak Experts revealed themselves on the front lines, their presence might prompt those bickering Defiled to put aside their differences once again and march east in pursuit of a worthy challenge. Should the Enemy move before the Empire was ready, then the consequences would be dire indeed. Emissary Gen almost took Sinuji with merely three-hundred thousand Defiled, but there were millions of Defiled congregating in the Western province. Only the Citadels could stand against such an army, as the rammed earth walls of fort Sinuji would be overrun in a matter of hours, if not minutes.

While still complaining about his lack of luck, a Death Corps guard arrived bearing a letter for Rain. “Oh good, a reply,” he said, sounding anything but pleased as he explained, “I wrote to all fifteen officers scheduled to hold command of the outer wall over the next five days, asking if we could meet, and so far this is the only reply I’ve gotten.” Reading it over, he smiled and added, “I didn’t expect anyone to agree, but it seems Tam Taewoong is willing to talk.”

Though the letter made no mention of restrictions, Rain asked Lin-Lin and Luo-Luo to stay behind and limited his Death Corps escort to no more than twelve. With nothing better to do, Song ignored the urge to stay behind and followed him to his meeting, mostly out of suspicion since the former Hwarang was not exactly friendly with Rain and the Bekhai. Back in Nan Ping, Han BoShui had used Tam Taewoong as a stepping stone and defeated him in an impromptu tea-house duel, a duel which Rain had no small part in instigating thanks to his glib tongue and lack of common courtesy. In all likelihood, the Central-born Martial Warrior was only calling Rain over to gloat, but if so, Song had no qualms about exchanging blows with the Benevolent Asura.

...Her mood was all over the place today, and Song didn’t understand why. First she wanted to avoid Rain, but now she rode at his side to defend him and was even contemplating breaking military law over an insult which had yet to be delivered. Had she been gone from the battlefield for too long and lost her edge?

Though Tam Taewoong didn’t come out to receive them, his second invited Rain into the command tent for tea, which was a warmer welcome than Song had expected. Leaving his Death Corps outside, Rain brought Song into the tent with him and introduced her as his Martial Aunt before they all sat down for tea and snacks. Having only eaten a quarter of his hardtack, Rain helped himself to the more palatable refreshments with gusto while Song sat ready to strike at the first sign of treachery, but there was no trickery or poison involved. Taewoong looked different from the last time they’d crossed paths, wearing much less makeup while carrying the weight of the world upon his shoulders. Dark bags hung under his eyes and he sat favouring an injury on his abdomen which had yet to wholly Heal, but he made polite conversation as decorum demanded until Rain cleared the table of food and drained his teacup thrice. Flashing the barest hint of a smile, Taewoong said, “Judging by your appetite, it seems the rumours of your infirmity have been grossly exaggerated.”

“No, not at all. The Legate recently provided me with a miraculous elixir which did wonders for my health, and I am exceedingly grateful for his generosity.” Delivered with the enthusiasm of a wooden puppet, Rain certainly didn’t sound exceedingly grateful, but Song couldn’t fault him for it since the Legate’s actions were akin to fattening the goose for the slaughter. Had they taken this trips two weeks prior, Rain might have died on the way here, but now he was just healthy enough to travel yet still utterly weak and helpless. Switching topics with the grace of a donkey, Rain said, “Anyways, thank you for meeting with me. I wanted to greet my new superior officers and say... well, you know about my dilemma, correct?”

“Rumours and gossip mostly. The most popular stories say you offended an Imperial Scion over a woman and have now been sent here to die.”

“...Surprisingly accurate.” Leaving a pause to let his words sink in, Rain soon continued, “So yea. A word to the wise, if -”

“Hmm, let me guess.” Taewoong’s tone took on a hint of steel as his knuckles tightened around his armrest, and Song shifted closer to Rain’s side just in case. “If I betray you, then pain and unpleasantness await me and everyone I hold dear. Close enough?”

“Ha. No. Not even close.” Undaunted by Taewoong’s sudden hostility, Rain chuckled and asked, “Oh Mother in Heaven, is that why no one else would meet with me? Because they think I want to threaten them?”

“Then why are you here?”

“To tell you to do whatever you need to do.” Shrugging, Rain explained, “You’re here to fight the Defiled, not meddle in politics. Hell, you’ve been here longer than most, and even stayed during the new year’s festivities when you didn’t have to. You’re a soldier first, and I respect that, so if you’re bribed, take the money and I’ll pay you double to do nothing, but if you or your loved ones are threatened, then there’s nothing I can do to help, so go along with their wishes and I’ll handle whatever may come.” Clearing his throat, he added, “Or I won’t and I’ll die. Either way, you do what you think is necessary to keep your people safe, and I’ll understand. No hard feelings.”

His piece said, Rain reached over the table to shake hands, but for long seconds, Taewoong sat utterly still and stared in shocked silence. After a long sigh, he took Rain’s hand and clasped it tight. “You are a strange, strange man.”

“I get that a lot.”

Their meeting done, Rain bade their stunned host farewell and left with Song at his side. Waiting until they were out of the camp, she took Rain’s hand and Sent, “It would have been wiser to threaten him. Now he will think you and the Bekhai weak and fangless.”

Unable to Send, Rain answered out loud while interlacing their fingers as he did with everyone who held his hand, a habit she didn’t quite understand or hate. “Maybe, but I meant every word. Let them do what they will. I am Falling Rain, the Undying, and I won’t threaten innocents to keep myself safe. Even if he leaves me isolated on the wall, I’m confident Dastan and the others can hold out until help arrives, so what’s the worst that could happen?”

Despite his frail body shivering from the night’s chill, Rain spoke with the confidence of a warrior born, and if truth be told, his words filled Song with warmth and pride. His actions were still stupid beyond belief, but if he died here, he would die a good man. Still... “What if his family is captured and he’s forced to openly murder you and bear the punishment himself to secure their safety?”

“...Not gonna lie, that particular scenario did not occur to me. Would they really do something like that?”

An idiot, but a noble idiot, so she would stand by his side with saber in hand to help him handle whatever may come.

Wondering which of the bunnies she should bring back to snuggle, Song was jolted out of her thoughts as monk Happy appeared out of thin air and grabbed her by the shoulders the moment she dismounted from Erdene. His frowning face frightening to behold and not at all suitable given his appellation, she didn’t dare move a muscle while he leaned this way and that, studying her with intense severity right up until Rain stepped in and forcibly separated them, or rather monk Happy allowed himself to be separated. “What’s going on?” Rain demanded, standing protectively in front of Song. “Why you being so handsy?”

“A thousand apologies, Khishig Song. This monk was so surprised he forgot himself.” Wiping away his frown, monk Happy erected a Sound Barrier only moments after the Abbot appeared, then the two monks fell into a silent exchange, their gazes filled with wonder and disbelief as their eyes moved from Song to Rain and back again.

Smoothing his robes which did nothing to the wrinkled cloth, the Abbot cleared his throat and said, “Junior Brother, this monk does not begrudge you your secrets, but some questions are too important to be left unasked. Are you certain you can no longer Devour or Cleanse Spectres from Tainted individuals?”

“...Pretty sure I’d notice if my Core wasn’t shattered, but yea.”

“Then...” Pointing at Song, the Abbot asked, “How did you Cleanse her?”

Trading glances with Rain, she saw her confusion mirrored in his eyes as they simultaneously asked, “What?”

Chapter Meme